Gravity Happens
by Riddler-of-Words
Summary: They have always been best friends, but when she dances, it's like she takes on a whole other persona. When he watches, he sees a side of her he can't resist.
1. Summer Plans

They have always been best friends, but when she dances, it's like she takes on a whole other persona. When he watches, he sees a side of her he can't resist.

…Gravity Happens

…

Summer Plans…

Camille attempts to close her dormitory room door behind her as she tries to juggle three textbooks, two notebooks, a calculator, and a plain black backpack which dangles from her elbow. It feels as though any minute all of the things in her hands will fall to the floor in an avalanche of papers.

After some maneuvering, the door finally clicks shut. But it comes at a price as the calculator slides sideways and rolls over the barrier of her arm and towards the floor. Camille yelps as it clatters to the tile floor loudly and resounds down the hallway, causing multiple people to stare at her.

She swears under her breath as she bends to pick it up. Silently, she wills her face to fade from full out blushing to a natural healthy glow. Even as she tries to calm down, her face remains beet red and, frustratingly, she drops her backpack to the ground and gets down to one knee to grab the calculator. The books grow heavy in her arms as she stands up and her heart pounds in her throat in fear of dropping everything.

"Maybe you should put the calculator in your backpack?" A male voice teases behind her.

Camille glances over her shoulder at Moose and glares at him. It's a mystery as to where he came from, but she can't keep up her glare for long as she continues to stare into his eyes. There is an innocent warmth in them and every time he looks her in the eyes, she caves because being mad at him makes her feel like she's kicking a puppy.

Moose smiles goofily at her and shrugs before snatching up her backpack from the ground. He gently pulls the calculator out of her hand.

Camille watches him, unable to look away, as he unzips her backpack, puts the calculator inside, zips it back up, and puts it on his shoulders. He looks up at her from beneath his eyelashes and motions like a gentleman for her to lead the way.

_Breathe Camille. It's just Moose_, Camille berates herself as they head down the hallway.

"What's with all the stuff?" Moose asks before turning to her with wide eyes. "You're not turning nerdy on me, are you? Cause that won't help my rep at all."

Camille elbows him in the side, her arm knocking against his hip. She marvels at how tall he suddenly appears and then tries to force down the growing heat in her cheeks. She should be focusing on more important things like her to-do list for her studies, instead of the buzz she feels from being so close to Moose.

"Moose, the notebooks!" she says as she tries to tilt her books up in time to prevent her notebooks from falling off the top of the stack.

"You're such a klutz." Moose catches the notebooks midair and hangs onto them. "Maybe I should hold the textbooks too?"

Camille shakes her head even though her arms are starting to ache. It feels as though she'll never get used to the weight of so many textbooks. "Nah, I've got them, but if I drop them, I know you'll catch them."

"Or will I?" Moose lifts one corner of his lips and looks at her.

Camille glances at him out of the corner of her eye, refusing to take the bait. Suddenly, she tips the books in her arms forward and watches innocently as the book on top slides off.

"Cam!" Moose catches the book and stares at her. "Carefu—"

She presses her lips together to hold in the peal of laughter bubbling up her throat.

"I told you."

Moose rolls his eyes and let's the textbook fall back on the top of her stack of books. He watches with amusement as her arms sag slightly from the sudden weight and whistles innocently as she turns to give him an evil look.

Secretly, Camille loves their banter. She loves how close they are, how they can fool around because they're best friends, how they can rely on each other. With that thought, she looks at Moose out of the corner of her eye. After everything that has happened, she's not sure how true the last part is.

There is still a sting, like a couple of bees landed over where her heart is and pricked her, when she thinks about the beginning of their freshman year. Even though it's spring and the year is almost over, she's afraid things will go back to the way they were months ago.

All too soon for Camille's tastes, they arrive at the library. Some of her friends have already set up camp in a corner on the second floor, the 24/7 quiet floor. They have books set up like mini buildings, notebooks opened and pages filled like New York City walls lined with graffiti.

Moose grabs her shoulder and stops her before they reach the table. Camille can see her friends' heads lift out of the corner of her eye, but her surroundings fade as he starts talking. There is this serious glint in his eyes, a rarity when it comes to Moose.

"So I was thinking…" he starts hesitantly.

Camille looks up at him curiously as butterflies take flight in her stomach and flutter up into her chest. "Yeah?"

"Well…Luke is coming back for the summer to get started on the next World Jam and so I've decided I'm going to stay in NYC for the summer," he says in a rush.

Camille can feel her face falling. She knows there's a disappointed look in her eyes, but can't muster up the energy to hide it.

Some part of her had hoped that this summer she could figure out what that kiss at the train station had meant, if there is anything more Moose feels for her. Secretly, she is praying he does. They haven't talked about the kiss after it happened, though, so she has no idea how he views it. She assumes he was caught up in the moment and saw the opportunity.

But there will be no opportunities this summer if he isn't going to be around.

Moose's eyes roam her face and they widen in panic when he spots the disappointment in her eyes. "No, Cam, I didn't mean it like that. I was wondering if you wanted to stay too. I was wondering if you wanted to be in the World Jam again with us, with me."

Camille bites at him as relief floods her insides. Giddiness makes her heart pound hard as she struggles to keep her squeal from bursting past her teeth. She wants to drop her books and run happily through the library, but refrains herself because the feeling scares her. She knows she has feelings for Moose, but she doesn't understand why they're this strong or why they make her feel this way, like she's lightheaded and can never stop smiling when she's around him. She's not sure if it's normal for people to fall for their best friends.

"And Luke's okay with it?" she asks. A small part of her worries Luke won't be okay with it, that he'll tell Moose they already have too many people. If that happens she'll end up back home, without Moose, for the summer. It'll be the first summer they've spent apart since they first met and she can't face that thought because she knows it'll be the longest, worst summer ever.

Moose gives her an exasperated look and raises his eyebrows at her. "Come on Cam, have some faith in me! I asked him weeks ago and I was going to ask you, but with all the studying you've been doing I didn't want to distract you."

"I'm still studying you know," Camille tells him with a laugh. She shifts the weight of the books to ease the strain on her arms and regrets taking classes with such big textbooks. "And you should be too, but I don't think I've seen you hit the library once yet."

"You would know, right? You practically sleep here half the time," Moose says with a shrug. "I'm just too sneaky for you. Skills of a ninja." He pretends to karate chop the books in her arms, including the sound effects, and gets a dirty look for both students hunched over books and the librarian sitting at the help desk.

"Moose, keep it down before you get us both kicked out of here. You may avoid this place like the plague—ninja skills my butt—but I need the quiet to study," Camille warns him quietly as she smiles.

"I know, I know. Sorry," he apologizes even though he is grinning without an ounce of regret in his face. He raises one eyebrow as he stares at her, suddenly serious. "So, this summer…NYC with me?"

Camille gives him an are-you-serious? look and replies, "Moose, I don't care where I spend my summer as long as it's with my best friend."

Moose claps his hands together once and wraps his arms around Camille. He pulls her close, ignoring the pointy edges of the textbooks digging into his skin and murmurs in her ear, "This is going to be the best summer ever Chameleon. Ever!"

Camille's eyes flutter close as she allows her forehead to fall against his neck. Her nose presses into his bare collarbone and she can smell the soap he uses in the shower. The mix of lemons and leather and the warmth seeping from his skin sends goose bumps across her skin and she forces herself to pull away before she becomes permanently attached.

"But…there's going to be a lot of dancing." Moose smirks at her and shakes his hips then spins quickly, somehow twisting her backpack off his back in the process. He holds it out to her with a huge grin on his face.

Camille leads him over to her friends' table as she talks to him over her shoulder. "I'm prepared. It's you I'm worried about."

Moose scoffs and tosses her backpack onto an empty chair at the table. He waits for Camille to set down her text books before he grabs her hand and twirls her out then in. He sways with her for a moment, his chest pressed snugly against her back, before he spins her out again, follows her, and spins her quickly. She giggles as he dips her low, his hands strong and supportive against her lower back. He pulls her up and they smile at each other, her hands against his chest and his hands still around her waist.

"Well, as much as I would love to keep dancing with you, I need to study." Camille pulls away and moves over to the chair with her backpack on it. She sets it on the floor and sits down, ignoring the looks her friends are giving her.

Moose rests his chin on her shoulder and dangles her calculator in front of her face. "Missing something?"

"Moose! Give me that you little sneak."

Moose chuckles and let's her snatch it. His lips come close to her ear as he whispers, "Best summer ever. Later gater." He kisses her on the cheek and then he is gone.

Camille forces herself to not turn around and watch him walk away. Unwillingly, she pictures it in her mind. He slowly walks away at his own pace, not in a hurry to be anywhere. His hands are buried in his shorts pockets and for once he isn't wearing one of those beanies she hates so much. She loves his curls and doesn't like when he pulls off his hat and they're all matted down.

"So, best friends huh?" one of Camille's friends teases with a sly grin. "I would have totally believed you if I had not just seen _that_."

Camille stares at Kristen with confusion. "What are you talking about? That's our normal routine."

As Camille speaks she knows her words aren't true. She doesn't lie, mainly because she's not good at it, but now there's a bitter feeling in the back of her throat because she's lying to herself, something she's never done before. It's something she's never needed to do before. The verbal jesting is normal, but the dancing in the middle of the library and the close proximity to him is foreign territory to her.

"Really? Cause the blush on your face tells otherwise." Kristen giggles and sets her pen down, raising one eyebrow at Camille in challenge.

Camille looks around the table at each of her friends. Even though Moose and she have been friends since they were little, these girls have become a separate group of friends who she has gotten to know and who have come to know her. As much as Camille is willing to lie to herself about the growing chemistry between her and Moose, she can't lie to her friends. And judging by the growing grins on their faces, she knows they're about to dish out a big serving of truth to her.


	2. You're Hired

…Gravity Happens

…

You're Hired…

"Hi Mom," Camille speaks into her cell phone. Her knuckles are white as the snow that falls during the wintertime in New York City and are wrapped around the phone as her other hand drums the café table nervously. "I've got some great news."

"Cammie! It's so great to hear from you. We all miss you here and can't wait for you to come home," Camille's mom gushes into the phone, the excitement evident.

Camille winces and presses her lips together before she responds, "Actually, that's what I'm calling about. Moose invited me to stay in New York City for the summer."

There is silence on the other end, the kind of silence present at a funeral, and Camille's heart drops into her stomach.

"When will you stop chasing around that boy Camille?" her mom's voice is low, the barest of murmurs, and for a moment Camille isn't sure if she has heard right. "He's just stringing you along and I don't want to get a phone call a month from now with you asking if it's alright if you can come home. I don't want to see you get hurt."

_I already did get hurt once Mom, but I dealt with that just fine_, Camille thinks sourly and then instantly feels guilty. This is her mom and she's just worried her daughter will get her heart broken. It's every mom's deepest fear for her daughter.

"It's not just him Mom. I _want_ to stay. New York City is amazing and it feels like…well, like home," Camille admits to her mom and a small smile comes to her face. She has become attached to the crowded sidewalks and the towering buildings, the venders shouting out deals and the smells of the restaurants and cafes as she passes. But most of all, Camille loves discovering new things, and there is always some hidden treasure in New York City, whether it's a small restaurant hidden in an alleyway or a spiral staircase in a library leading to a not-so-known deserted second floor, or even a tiny notch away from the crowds where there is a silence which consists of the far away sound of people and car horns.

Her mom sighs on the other end. "If that's what you want Cammie."

There is silence after that and Camille can tell that something is wrong. Her mom is always like that, quiet when something bad has happened because she doesn't want to burden anyone else with her problems. Camille knows she is the exact same way, but when she has hit the final straw, she explodes instead of bottling it all up inside, a tribute she is not sure whether is good or bad.

"What is it mom?" Camille asks carefully, afraid of what she might hear. She feels as though she is walking on fragile glass and at any moment she'll fall through and land somewhere she doesn't want to be. "Did something happen?"

Her mom doesn't respond for a moment and Camille pulls her phone away from her ear to make sure the call wasn't disconnected. The seconds are still ticking away, indicating the call is still going.

"Mom?"

"I lost my job Cammie," her mom says quietly and there is a twinge of sadness in her voice. "I was hoping you would be here for the summer and possibly get a job, but—"

"Mom, I can still get a job in New York City," Camille tells her reassuringly. She stops drumming her fingers on the table and lays her hand flat against the sticky surface as she makes her decision. "Actually, I was planning on getting a job anyways. It'll work out because then I can keep it when college starts again."

"Really? You're not too busy with other things?"

"Of course not. It'll give me something to do," Camille lies smoothly, knowing her words couldn't be farther wrong, but knowing they'll make her mom feel better.

They finish up their conversation and Camille hangs up with a sick feeling in her stomach. She stares out the window for a while, her thoughts swirling around in her head like the vanilla cream in her hot chocolate.

The waitress comes by her table and stops. "Can I get you anything else?"

Camille starts to shake her head no and then stops herself as a light bulb goes off in her head. "Actually, are you guys hiring?"

"No, I'm sorry. We just hired two new people a couple of weeks ago. You can fill out an application if you'd like though," the waitress offers and goes behind the counter before coming back with an application.

"Thank you," Camille says and digs out a pen from her bag. She stares down at the paper and bites her lip as the weight of everything sets in. This summer is going to be hectic with dance practices, battles, and work. With one last sigh, more out of exhaustion than anything else, Camille sets to work on filling out the application.

...

Moose sets out into the jungle called New York City and heads for the Vault. With his hands in his pockets and his pace set at a leisurely stroll, his outward appearance is at ease with the world. On the inside, though, his mind is spinning with as many thoughts as there are colors in a kaleidoscope.

Dance is in the forefront as the World Jam summer battles loom closer. Moose isn't afraid of who they might face. The Pirates are gifted dancers and Moose would bet all of his money on them, if he had money to spare. It's the hard work, the routines, the flare they need to have, and that Moose both dreads and can't wait for. Every time he thinks about how they did it last time, how they thought up all of those amazing dance moves, he comes up empty handed. It must have been an epiphany.

The hair on Moose's arms stand on end as the thought of dancing with Camille crashes into the center of his mind. The pit of his stomach erupts in butterflies and he can't help the smile from coming to his face. He knows she can dance, can handle any steps given to her, but it's the freestyling he craves. The thought of her blowing everyone away with the tricks up her sleeves makes a darker part of his mind take over. He suddenly despises the title of 'best friend' and desperately yearns for more. A part of him wants to be able to kiss her and dance with her in front of everyone, to lay claim because he can't stand the thought of anyone else being with her but him. They fit so perfectly together. His pride threatens to overtake him when she is around because she is that extraordinary. People watch her because they can't take their eyes off of her; she's that beautiful and captivating.

Frowning, Moose suddenly hates himself more than he ever has before. Camille isn't just some girl he can lay claim to, she's his best friend and never again will he take that for granted and wish for anything more. He doesn't want to show public affection for her because of his pride, but because he loves her.

The turn his thoughts are taking freaks Moose out, enough that his stomach rolls nervously, enough that he falters in his tracks, so he focuses his mind on other things.

One final thought breaks through the cracks of his distraction. If he loves Camille, is he in love with her?

_I can't be in love with her_, Moose scolds himself. _She's my best friend and I don't want to ruin that. I almost destroyed our friendship once and I won't allow it to happen again, not over some puppy crush._

The sidewalks are crowded, a trait known for in New York City, and Moose snakes his way around people. He has learned to twist and turn with the crowd to avoid shouldering anything and being shouldered.

The smell of warm rolls and lasagna catches Moose's attention as he passes a fancy restaurant. His stomach growls and he stops in front of the window, staring inside with longing. The tables are covered in crimson red, the seats a crème colored. The floor is a dark wood and screams expensive.

Moose watches as a pair of women sit down at a table close to the window. One is wearing pearls, the other a silk scarf. They are barely seated when a waiter comes by with a bottle of red wine. He pours the crimson liquid into two wine glasses and then leaves the bottle on the table in case they want more.

It all looks very fancy and exquisite to Moose. He wonders if Camille will like it and vows he will save all of his money and take her here. He can see it, Camille and him walking in. She will be wearing a gorgeous deep violet dress, heels which make her almost as tall as him, and soft curls spilling over her shoulders. She would turn heads and he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her the entire night.

Moose continues on his way down the sidewalk, whistling softly as he imagines Camille and that violet dress. There is a goofy grin on his face and he feels like he is five years old on Christmas Eve, giddy and excited. All he wants to do is see Camille and the feeling bring back the sick feeling in his stomach. It's like an interest growing into an obsession.

He trains his eyes ahead and catches sight of a girl walking out of a restaurant, her brown curls pulled back into a ponytail.

"Camille? Camille!" Moose shouts over the bustling crowd. "Wait up Camille!"

He squeezes through the crowd, accidentally knocking shoulders with a man in a pinstripe suit, shined shoes, a tie printed with dice, and holding a briefcase. The man glares at Moose before continuing on his way, talking into his Bluetooth.

Moose yells an apology at the man, but the man doesn't turn. Resigned, he turns and reaches for the girl, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around with a huge grin on his face. It falls when he realizes it's not Camille. This girl has blue eyes and bangs, two factors he missed as he was trying to catch up to her.

"Oh, geez, I'm so sorry," he apologizes and winces. "I thought you were someone else."

The girl smiles at him. "That's okay." She looks as though she is about to say something else, but Moose has already disappeared into the crowd, speed walking as though if he gets far enough away the incident will be erased.

He realizes this isn't the first time he's done this and decides he'll always look at the person's face from now on.

When he reaches the Vault, the feeling of home fills him, warming his insides. He enters and goes up to the common room, the music vibrating in his bones and giving him the urge to start freestyling it right then and there. He refrains himself when he sees Jacob who greets Moose with a smile and head nod.

"Did you hear?" Jacob asks in his thick accent and shakes his head in humor as the Santiago Twins walk out of a side room.

"I'm tellin' ya man, that place down the street, _nasty_ as cat food," one says to the other.

"But that's the only Korean restaurant for blocks." The other Santiago Twin sighs sadly, his lanky shoulders slumping. Both Twins notice Moose and Jacob and come up to them, one bumping fists with Moose while the other tries to hug Jacob and is pushed away. He smiles at Jacob and winks jokingly.

"Did ya guys hear?" They ask simultaneously with big grins on their faces and stare at Moose eagerly.

Moose rolls his eyes. "Will everyone stop asking if I've heard about it and just tell me what _it_ is?"

The Santiago Twins look at each other and then speak, "Cameron Diaz is joining our crew." They look at each other in shock.

"That was amazing how we just—" the Twin on the left exclaims with wide eyes.

"—said the same thing at the same time without planning it. It's like we're twins! Oh wait...we are!" the Twin right finishes sarcastically.

Moose patiently waits for them to stop talking, nodding enthusiastically with a fake look of interest on his face. "Now that we've settled that you're twins, what's the big news?"

"Oh, right, guess who's coming home…_today_?" the Twin on the right starts, the mixture of his excitement and accent slightly slurring his words.

"He's this tall," the Twin on the left says while motioning with his hand the height of the guy. "With brown hair, brown eyes, in need of a shave, and a camera glued to his right hand for twenty-four hours of the day."

Moose acts like he is thinking and scratches his temple in thought. "Oh, gee, I don't know. Can I have another hint?"

The Santiago Twins stare at Moose in disbelief. "Are you serious man?" one of the Twins asks.

"Nah, he can't be! He's just joking around, right Moose?" the other Twin tells his brother.

Moose shrugs. "I really can't think of who it is. You've stumped me."

"I think he's serious." The Twins look at each other with panicked looks.

Jacob turns his head to the side to hide his laughter and then turns back to them with crossed arms and a small smile on his face.

Moose laughs and shakes his head. "So Luke's home?"

The Santiago Twins sigh in relief and one slaps Moose on the shoulder humorously.

"You had us fooled for a moment there," the other Twin exclaims. "Good one bro."

"He's on his way now from the airport," Jacob tells Moose. The Santiago Twins squeal and scurry off, exclaiming they have last minute tweaking to do on their 'welcome-home-Luke' performance. "He told me he has a lot of ideas for routines. And by 'a lot' I think he means more than 'a lot'."

Moose smirks and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "It's him I'm worried about. California's a long ways away and he might have gotten rusty. I hope he's ready for _this_." He spins once, twice, three times, his left foot scraping against the floor in an increasing circle before he stops, his hands fluttering like butterfly wings and in opposite directions. He flips onto his back and pushes with his feet, his chest popping up. He rolls onto his stomach and pushes with his feet, ending up on his hands. He walks towards Jacob with a grin on his face, his feet moving in the air as though they are marching, matching his hands. Once he reaches Jacob, he gets to his feet and raises one eyebrow at Jacob.

Jacob shakes his hand, a smile on his face, and they go off in search of everyone else, waiting for Luke and his bandwagon of ideas to arrive so they can get started on a summer filled with dance, routines, and victory.

...

With sore feet, Camille climbs the staircase leading to the floor her dormitory room is on. For a moment that morning she had forgotten why she hated heels, the magic they worked on her legs causing her to actually _like_ them for a while. But hours later, after walking countless blocks and climbing countless stairs, Camille feels as though she will need pliers to get the heels off her feet.

Glancing down, she stares at her poor toes in the black wedge heels she had opted for today. With a simple pattern of gold flowers on the top, they had looked harmless enough and went well with the dark crimson dress she was wearing. The dress itself was perfectly comfortable, the straps thin and crisscrossing in the back, but a little unsettling when people kept staring at her as she passed. It was hard enough trying not to fall, let alone doing so with people watching her every move.

But it had all worked out. After hours of interviews and asking to speak to managers, she had finally found a job at a restaurant called _Hearth_. When she had walked in, the dim lighting had casted her into a whole other world of sitting on the floor in front of a fireplace and just living in the moment.

Of course, she would have to work an entire week just to afford one night at the restaurant, but she was perfectly fine with not being able to eat there regularly. Food is just food. It doesn't determine status or respect or worth.

Camille finally reaches her floor and presses her hip against it to open it as she digs through her satchel to find her keys. Instead, she finds her cell phone, some chap stick, a pen, and a small tube of hand lotion. At last, her fingers feel the hard ridges of a key and she yanks up on it, releasing her keys from her jungle gym of a bag.

She opens the door and has barely a second to set her things down before Kristen is asking her how things went and bouncing up and down on her feet.

"So, let me guess, you got a job at a bar and you have to wear skimpy dresses to get tips," Kristen jokes, knowing full well that Camille wouldn't take a job like that, no matter how much money is offered.

"Not quite," Camille plays along as she grabs a hair tie from her desk and ties her hair up, relieved that the wisps of hair are finally out of her face. "It's actually a little sluttier. You see, I'm on the bar, not behind it. There's this pole they assigned me to and I just have to _work it _like I'm starving and it's going to pay for my next meal."

Kristen catcalls and demands that Camille show her what she knows so far. Camille blushes and sits down, shaking her head.

"Actually, I got a job at this restaurant called _Hearth_. You should see it, it's amazing! It'll be tough memorizing all the menus. They rotate them, but I think it's a fourteen day cycle, so that's only one hundred and twenty six choices. Three appetizers, three main courses, and three dessert options. And the best part is they're only open from six to ten at night on weeknights and six to eleven on weekends so I don't have to work all day," Camille explains in a rush and tries to remember everything the manager said to her earlier.

Kristen rolls her eyes and gives Camille an exasperated look. "_Only_ one hundred and twenty six meals to memorize. No big deal or anything. Do you know what days you're working?"

Camille's eyebrows crease as she thinks before saying, "He said I would work two of the three weekend days, but it would rotate so I might work Friday and Saturday one weekend then Friday and Sunday another. I'll work three of the four weekdays on a rotation too. It's a great deal and the place is respectable, too. The walls are brick and they have pans hanging along them and you need to come in one night and eat dinner there and see for yourself."

"I definitely will. Just let me save up my entire life savings first so I can afford it," Kristen says just as her phone buzzes. She gives Camille an apologetic look and then flips it open. "Hey dad, how's it going?" Slipping on her flip flops, Kristen leaves the room, her voice audible even as she moves down the hall. The door clicks shut and the room becomes silent.

Camille sits there for a moment, taking everything in, and is just about to take off her heels when someone knocks on the door. Getting to her feet, she opens the door and wonders why she isn't surprised at who it is.

"Moose, what are you doing here?" she asks and grows concerned when he doesn't respond. His eyes are wide, his lips parted, his chest barely moving as his eyes roam from the tips of her toes, up her legs, over her hips, across her collarbone, along her neck, and finally to her face.

He licks his dry lips and her heart jolts in her chest when she realizes she's staring. She looks away, her cheeks heating up.

"Holy _Mama, _you're so tall," he remarks at last, a grin coming to his face. "I'm flattered, really, but you didn't need to go through all this trouble just for me."

Camille rolls her eyes and smacks him in the shoulder, turning and going back into her room. Moose follows and stares at Kristen's empty bed before flopping down on Camille's.

"Where's your bestest friend in the whole wide world?" he asks with raised eyebrows and a heartbroken look on his face. "I was hoping she was here so we could chat. I have some good comebacks I was hoping to try out."

"She stepped out for a moment. I can go find her if you want?" Camille offers with a smirk and heads for the door.

Moose jumps up from the bed like lightning and spins her around, grabbing her arms. She stumbles into him slightly, her heels unstable, and grabs onto his biceps.

"Actually, I'm fine with it just being us," he explains with a sheepish grin. "As much as I love Kristen, please don't go get her."

Camille forces herself to breathe and stares at Moose calmly, the total opposite of the chaos going on inside of her. It's like there are feathers tickling her insides and her toes curl in an effort to ground herself from feeling like she'll float away. Curling her fingers in her palms tightly to prevent herself coming grabbing him and doing something totally un-Camille like, she smiles at him and untangles herself from him. She sits on her bed and watches as Moose walks over to her desk before pulling the chair over to her bed and sitting on it backwards, his eyes trained on her.

"So…you're dressed up why?"

"For you, of course."

Moose gives her an I-may-be-stupid-but-not-that-stupid look waits for the real reason.

"I needed to look nice for my job interviews—"

"What job interviews?" Moose cuts in, confused. He has this look on his face as though he just watched a movie and the entire middle was missing and he doesn't know how it went from the beginning to the end.

Camille inhales deeply and in a rush says, "I needed a job and all morning I was out looking for one and I finally got one at this restaurant called _Hearth_. I guess the dress didn't just dazzle you, huh?"

Moose doesn't respond and Camille fears she has upset him. She tries to think of some way to backtrack, but knows that the only way to do that would be to lie and she refuses to lie to Moose.

"Do employees get free food?" he asks curiously after a while. His hands absentmindedly pick up a rhythm on the rim of the back of the chair, banging down the sides and then back up.

Camille shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Dang! That's cheap." Moose snaps his fingers and his eyes rise from the floor and focus on Camille. "And what about dancing?"

"I'll only be working nights so we'll be able to practice during the day," Camille explains and watches as Moose perks up. "Plus they said I don't have to start until after exams are over so we still have some time to figure things out."

"Did I tell you?" Moose says with a shocked gasp. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Guess what?"

Camille's eyebrows furrow as she thinks. She bites her lip and stares off to the side. Suddenly, she looks at Moose as it dawns to her.

Moose is staring at her, silent as any person as loud as Moose could possible be, his hands still. Embarrassedly, Camille realizes he's staring at her lips and releases her lower lip from between her teeth, smooth it over with her tongue.

"Moose?"

He blinks and reluctantly drags his eyes up to her's. "Huh?"

"When did Luke get home?" she asks and fights the habit to bite her lip. It's almost as bad as nail biting, a habit she broke a long time ago. She used to bite her nails when she was nervous and had one day decided to stop, but then she had started biting her lip instead.

"Geez Cam, do you read minds or somethin'?" He slaps the back of the chair in mock disappointment. "You stole my thunder."

"You asked me to guess. As far as I'm concerned, you forfeited the thunder to me," Camille says even though on the inside she really wants to say how badly she wishes she could read his mind and know what he's thinking when he gets those weird, stunned expressions on his face as he watches her. It makes her feel like she's the only person who exists to him at that moment, the intensity rendering her glued to her spot and tingly on the inside.

Moose is still talking, something about this guy who got struck by lightning multiple times, and all Camille can think of is how badly she wants this one wish to come true.

...

Uhm, it's two in the morning and I am extremely tired, but feeling very accomplished. This chapter was a lot longer than I expected/planned for it to be hence the reason my clock says 2AM. It's more like 2:30AM now, but who cares about the details.

Obviously, I LOVE THIS PAIRING SO FREAKING MUCH. Okay, enough of that. I'm sleep deprived and clearly going crazy.

And one last thing, this story might turn Rated M for later scenes (no promises :D) but I'm not sure yet. There is probably a 93% chance it will be Rated M (I just picked a random percentage) so be warned.

Thank you everyone for reading and good morning!


	3. First Day

…Gravity Happens

…

First Day…

"Just whatever you do, do _not_ drop the food."

Camille nods as the manager, Mike, of _Hearth_ explains some key tips to her. It is her first day, two days after her last exam, and already she feels overwhelmed. There are so many rules, so many warnings, so many different things to worry about.

"Don't worry, the trays are light because the servings are so damn small," a red headed boy with a face peppered with freckles chimes in from a table nearby. He wipes down the dark oak surface with a clean cloth.

Mike rolls his eyes. "Thank you for that Finn, but they're normal sized."

"That's too bad because they're so pricey," Finn remarks with a smirk. He grabs a stack of pearl colored plates from a nearby table and moves down the long, connected table. At the other end he grabs another stack and sets the other side, each plate perfectly centered in its spot.

Camille watches him and wonders how he is so at ease with this job. Shouldn't he feel the pressure of messing up? Or displeasing a customer? Or dropping the food, no matter how small it really is?

Finn sits down at a table piled with golden tableware and rose petal red cloth napkins. He methodically wraps and tucks the napkins around a set of two forks, one spoon, and one bread knife. His hands move like they are dancing, repeating each move perfectly with control and practice. It's oddly mesmerizing.

Camille tears her eyes away from Finn's hands and focuses back on Mike. He leads her back to where the waiter's door to the kitchen is, where the waiters enter to grab the food and exit, and goes over that procedure. Step one: make sure the order matches up with the food on the plate. Step two: make sure the food is satisfactory. Step three: make sure all the meals for a table are present and then bring them to the table.

_It doesn't sound too hard_, Camille muses in her head. _It's basically common sense._

"That's pretty much it for now," Mike says and looks around, searching for some task for her to do. "You can go help Finn if you want. He'll train you and you can follow him around when the restaurant opens."

Camille nods and turns to go find Finn. When she does, all of the golden tableware has been wrapped in napkins and Finn is going around placing them on the center of each plate. Surprised, she wonders how he did it so quickly.

"You're really fast," she comments as she grabs a handful of the wrapped tableware and starts at another table, placing each on a plate as perfectly as she can.

"Nah, I've just done it over and over and over, every night." Finn laughs and finishes one of the long tables. He goes over and grabs the last of the tableware and finishes that up. "Time for the cups."

Camille looks around for them and comes up empty handed. She watches as Finn pulls out a cart stacked with crystal glass from one of the private dining rooms. The glass sparkles under the light like ice, smooth and spotless.

Finn grabs four glasses, two in each hand, and sets off in another round of preparation. As Camille helps place the cups upside down at the upper right of each plate, she thinks about how this too is like a dance. Each piece of the table has its own step and when it all comes together, it creates a bigger picture of tableware perfection.

Smiling, Camille wonders what Moose would think of her connection between table setting and dance. Would he laugh along with her? Or would he smirk and make a comment about how she should be _on_ the table dancing instead of setting the table?

"Having fun?" Finn asks from across the room.

Startled out of her thoughts, Camille looks up and can feel the blush coming to her cheeks at being caught daydreaming. She gives a shy smile and shrugs before going back to putting cups on the tables. A piece of hair falls in front of her eye and she tucks it behind her ear. She can still feel the heat in her cheeks.

When all of the tables are set up and everything is in its place, Finn brings the cart into the kitchen and then comes back. With a sigh, he drops down into one of the chairs at a table. He motions for her to sit next to him when she stands off to the side, unsure of what to do now, and she sits next to him quietly.

"I love finishing early with setup," Finn says and reaches out to straighten the red garnished tableware on the plate. "Once the doors open, there's no time for relaxing. It's just go go go until the last person is out the door and the tables are clean and spiffy."

Camille nods and plays with the edge of her waitress apron. It's safe to say it's officially her's as she was given it when she had arrived forty five minutes before six. In the pockets are two pens and the typical waiter notepad for orders. It feels odd having something tied around her hips and brushing against her thighs, but she knows she'll get used to it sooner or later.

"Nervous?" Finn asks with a small smile and a knowing, empathetic look on his face.

Camille lifts one corner of her lips in a half smile and glances up at him. "Yeah, kind of. I just don't want to do anything wrong is all. I spent so long trying to get a job and it would be hard to get another one now."

Finn nods. "That's why you train first, so that the chance of you keeping your job is higher. They aren't trying to get you to mess up. If they were, you'd be taking orders tonight and serving people and _that_ would be a disaster."

Camille instantly feels better as though he has just lifted a massive weight off her chest. She smiles gratefully at him. "Thanks Finn. You don't know how much that makes me feel better."

"No problem," he replies and stands, his eyes on his wristwatch as he reads the time. "Five, four, three, two…"

Getting to her feet, Camille follows Finn into the kitchen where the other waitress Maddie is and he tells the chefs that _Hearth _is now officially opened for the evening. The chefs get rowdy for a couple of seconds before going back to their prep work of chopping, sautéing, and mixing. Finn tells them to do their best tonight and then leads Camille out of the kitchen.

"Okay, first things first, the front door waiter will seat the customers. The restaurant is broken up into two sections because it is so small, but once you start working it'll be broken up into three. I get the left half, including the dining hall on that side, and Maddie gets the right half, including the other dining hall. When you start working, you'll start off with the two dining halls," Finn explains as he leads her into one of the dining halls. It is small with one long table for one large group of people, whether they are family or friends or a mix of both.

Camille nods and listens intently, taking all of Finn's words in and trying to imagine the different rooms. Knowing that she won't have to do anything major tonight makes her feel more relaxed. The less she has to do, the smaller the chance of messing up.

Finn leads them back into the main room which is starting to fill up. He winks and smiles over his shoulder at Camille before digging out the order pad in his apron.

"Showtime," he says before heading over to the table on the left side with people, Camille hot on his heels and ready to learn the tricks of the trade.

...

Moose pops his shoulder out, then his other one, then lowers them in a zigzag formation to the beat of the song. He rises, his body spinning quickly, and is off into the next move, a jerk to the right as he does a handstand with his right hand, his left tucked in towards his chest. His legs bicycle kick at the air, slowing until they are moving like they are robot legs.

The crowd cheers in a mixture of surprised gasps and proud yells from his friends. It encourages him on and he moves around the small circular space the crowd has made for him, popping and flipping and sliding his feet this way and that. His body moves as though his bones are liquid and his body is defying the laws of gravity.

The song ends all too soon and Moose moves towards a group of Pirates near the wall. Stix glances up and smiles at him, her eyes glittering under the sparkly eyeshadow she's wearing. Anala fist bumps him and tries to yell a compliment to his dancing over the music, but the words are lost between her mouth and his ears. He grins as though he has heard and winks at her.

The Santiago Twins slide up next to him, one of each side, and place their arms on his shoulders, caging him in.

"So there's this girl upstairs…"

"…yeah, and she has pretty brown hair…

"…and even prettier brown eyes, like melted chocolate…

"…yes, just like melted chocolate and she's lonely…"

"…and in desperate need for company..."

"…_your_ company…"

One Santiago Twin looks at the other over Moose's head and they smile evilly.

Moose perks up as he listens to the Twins. He looks up at one Twin then the other hopefully, his eyes glittering as a blue light passes over his face, switching red and then green as it moves over the crowd. "Wait, are you talking about Cam?"

The Santiago Twins shrug as though they have no idea. "This girl…"

"…she might be drunk…"

At the mention of Camille being drunk, Moose detangles himself from the Twins and sprints for the elevator, his stomach twisting in painful knots. He doesn't know how or why she would do something like that, but is worried of what would cause her to do so. Hell, he didn't think she would ever lay a finger on alcohol before twenty-one, but now that she has, her virtue is in danger. Being extremely attractive, Moose doesn't doubt for a second that a sleezeball would take advantage of her. The thought makes his teeth grit in anger. No one will take advantage of Camille while she is drunk as long as he's alive.

As Moose disappears into the crowd of people, the Santiago Twins high five each other.

"That was pure genius."

"I can't help myself sometimes."

...

Camille plops down onto the bed Luke had allowed her to use for the summer. It is in a room connected to the living room, a room she's sharing with Anala and Stix, and has enough space to be called comfortable.

With a tired sigh, she pulls off her shoes and then socks and leaves them at the end of her bed. Next is her shirt, a white, long sleeved button up shirt which all waitresses are required to wear at _Hearth_. She slides off her black pants and stretches, relieved to be able to wear something loose and comfy like cotton shorts. After she has folded the clothes, she places them on the neat stack of dirty clothes in the laundry basket under her bed. It slides easily under her bed with a push of her foot.

There are two dressers in the room, one large one and one small one. Stix uses the small one while Camille and Anala share the bigger one. When they had discussed who got which drawers, Camille had offered to take the bottom ones. Anala had smiled gratefully and stuffed all of her things into the top three drawers while Camille had waited until later to place her folded clothes neatly into her bottom three drawers.

Camille walks over to her dresser and kneels down to pick out some clothing. She searches through the bottom drawer for some shorts and finally finds a pair of soccer shorts from when she had gone through her soccer phase when she was younger. They had been too comfy to get rid of and still fit her, even if she vowed to never wear them in public because of the holes in the waistband and the worn look.

The door swings open behind her and, before she can react, her elbow is in someone's grip and she is being pulled to her feet.

"I understand that you're drunk Cam, but you should _not_ be taking off your clothes!" Moose says and grabs the first thing he can get his hands on, the pair of shorts in her hands. He attempts to stretch them across her body and fails, only managing to cover her stomach and underwear. As he does this, his eyes unwillingly stray along her skin, but Camille pushes him away before his eyes get very far.

"Moose! First, I'm not drunk and second, get out!" Camille screeches and she pushes him back towards the door. He grabs her wrists as she attempts to smack him and stares at her confused.

"Wait, you haven't been drinking?" he asks after a moment of silence. He leans forwards slightly and sniffs, his brow creasing when he doesn't smell the alcohol on her breath.

Camille groans and tries to push him back again, but the door had closed when Moose had flown through it and with the doorknob behind Moose, she knows it won't be worth the trouble. Embarrassed, she grabs the shorts off the ground and slides them on quickly before reaching for the first shirt in her reach. It isn't until it is on over her head and way past the hem of her shorts before she realized it's Moose's, a shirt he had left when he had stopped by earlier asking for her opinion on which one made him look more gangsta.

Turning to Moose, she finds him still with his back against the door, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink. She sighs frustratingly.

"I don't know who told you—"

"The Santiago Twins did."

Camille gives him an are-you-serious? look and places her hands on her hips. "Really? And you believed them why?"

Moose shrugs and kicks the floor with the tip of his shoe. He looks up at Camille with an apologetic face. "I'm sorry Chameleon. I just got worried that with you being drunk a bunch of guys would take advantage of you and I panicked."

Camille sighs and plops down on her bed. She props her chin on her hand and stares at him. "I know Moose, but you don't have to worry about me. I can handle myself. Trust me."

A dark look suddenly crosses Moose's face and he comes over and places a hand on each side of her. His face looms over hers as he stares at her.

"I trust you Cam, but it's other guys out there I don't trust," Moose says as low as a murmur. "I've seen the way guys stare at you. They hang around you like vultures."

Camille narrows her eyes at Moose. "Maybe I want guys to hang around me. Maybe I like the attention."

Moose scoffs and narrows his eyes at her in return as he says bluntly, "I call your bluff and double the bet. That's not you so don't try that line." His shoulders are as stiff as a board, opposite of how a dancer's shoulders should be.

With a sigh, Camille bites her lip before she admits, "You're right Moose, that isn't me." She shrugs and looks up at him as her cheeks color. "It almost sounds like you're jealous Moose. We're best friends so I understand how you feel, but you don't have to be upset—"

Moose grabs the back of Camille's neck and pulls her lips up to his. His teeth tug at her lower lip and angry tension drives his fingers into her hair where they curl around the strands, gently tilting her head back for better access.

With fluttering eyes, Camille's fingers glide up the back of his neck. She rips off his beanie and her slender fingers bury in his silken curls. Her blunt nails bite into his scalp and in response, the very tips of his fingers trial down the side of her neck and curl around her jaw, his thumb feeling the petal soft skin of her cheek.

She realizes she could get used to this, the way his lips move against hers carefully, taking their time as he takes all of her in with his senses. She could definitely get used to the free reign her hands would have at his hair.

Suddenly Moose pulls back, his eyes wide as he breathes rapidly as though he has just run twenty blocks from crazed bulls. Their breathing is the only sound in the room. His eyes roam her face, taking in every inch with a newfound interest, before he turns and leaves the room without a word. The door clicks shut behind him and the noise cuts the silence like the sharpest knife.

Camille winces because she isn't sure if the opportunity she had been waiting for has just slipped through her fingers.

...

Didn't expect that, did you? Guess reading through the first part of the chapter was worth it, huh? All that boring stuff about pretty plates and then BAM, Moose and Camille action.

The actual restaurant _Hearth_ and how I described it in my story are different. I didn't feel like making it the exact same as the actual restaurant, but I doubt anyone really cares.

I was supposed to post this a couple of days ago, but I wanted to rewrite the kissing scene and I wasn't near my computer. Instead, I kept reciting the gist of what I wanted to write in my head until I could type it up. So, sorry about that, but I think it was worth the wait.

Okay, enough for now. Thank you for reading and hopefully this satisfied your Moose/Camille appetites.


	4. Who's Finn?

Gravity Happens…

…

…Who's Finn?

"Again," Luke demands from in the front of the group, his eyes focused on the giant boom box wall. He presses a button and quickly steps back. A second later the music starts, flooding the room with vibrations which shake the very bones of every dancer there.

Moose struggles to keep his eyes open as the music and dancing threaten to capture him and pull him into his own world. He can't keep the grin off of his face. Dancing is his drug and even as he thinks this he moves in sync with Luke, his shoulders slanting and his right arm pointing like an arrow to the ceiling before he lowers into a right hand stand, his side scrunched as his feet kick at the air.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Camille, her slender right arm defined with muscle and secure as she holds her weight. Seeing her like this makes Moose feel weird, protective. She is always holding her own against the world, always watching out for everyone else, and for the first time Moose wants to help her and take some of the burden off of her shoulders for her.

As one, they get back to their feet do the feet work for the next part which ends with a spin. Each person in the group then slides into line next to Luke in the front as they drop into their own poses. Moose falls into a mock sit, his left leg bent and his left ankle resting on his right knee as though his legs are crossed. His head is cocked and he strokes his chin as though thinking. Next to him, Camille is in a backwards bridge, her eyes fierce and focused.

The music ends and everyone unfolds themselves from the line. Moose can't help but stare at Camille as she straightens, amazed at her flexibility. It sends goosebumps down his arms and makes his mouth dry and for a fleeting moment he wonders what else her flexibility would be good for.

Luke uncrosses his arms and claps his hands as he turns to face everyone. He glances down at the watch on his wrist and smiles absentmindedly.

"Okay, that's enough for now," he says and looks around. Moose muses on how it feels as though Luke is looking at every person, acknowledging each dancer like a one on one conversation.

"Natalie's plane should be landing some time soon so when we get back we'll show her what we've got." The Santiago Twins cat call from somewhere in the group and others join in. "Let's try not to intimidate her too much, okay?"

And with that final note Luke is striding to the door and is gone. People disperse like a white dandelion in the wind, going every which way.

Moose glances around, his eyes searching for Camille, but he can't find her and it causes an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Ever since the kiss they have barely talked, something that is hard to do when they're both living in the same place, and after two days Moose misses his best friend more than he ever has before.

At the thought of the kiss Moose's cheeks light up and he heads for his room, his head down as he thinks. The kiss was amazing, more than that actually, but Moose doesn't know how to label his feelings. He isn't sure if he wants to, but the memory of how he had felt surface unbidden. His stomach had tingled and a warmth had spread up his chest and settled in his throat. His skin had itched to be touched by Camille and his fingers had been far more eager than he had expected. And even now, two days later, all he wants to do is go back and kiss her again and lounge until the early hours of the morning with her.

So lost in his thoughts, Moose fails to notice Camille as she walks quickly out of her room. She is wearing her black pants and white, long sleeved button up shirt and her hair is braided to keep the hair out of her face.

Moose walks right into her as she crosses his path, her head down as she checks to make sure everything is in the apron pockets of the apron she is holding. Startled, he grabs her arm as she stumbles and steadies her, his other hand catching the edge of her apron as it falls from her grasp in surprise. All the contents of the upside down apron spill onto the floor with a clattering sound.

With a sigh, Camille gets down on one knee. Moose follows and grabs her pen and holds it out to her.

"Aww geez Cam, I'm sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and…" Moose trails off before he says anything he shouldn't say. His eyebrows crease in worry when she doesn't respond at first.

"Whose the klutz now Moose?" Camille jokes with a small smile as she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes. For a moment it roots him to his spot and then just as quickly he is telling himself to breathe and to get a grip.

Moose grins his white pearly teeth at her as they stand. "Okay, okay, you've got me, but it takes one to know one."

Camille shakes her head and pushes Moose lightly with a roll of her eyes. "I never denied that I wasn't a klutz," she tells him as she glances down at the watch around her wrist. It's simple yet sophisticated with a silver band and black intricate hands. Inwardly smiling, Moose loves how it fits her perfectly.

"Got somewhere to be?" he asks curiously with raised eyebrows. He motions for her to continue on her way and falls into step next to her, his hands in his pockets. They get into the elevator and it jolts downwards, descending.

"Work," Camille answers nonchalantly as she holds up her waitress apron. "Although I would rather be doing other stuff—"

"Like hanging with me, of course," Moose cuts in and bumps her with his shoulder. The elevator door slides open and they get out and head for the side door.

Camille giggles and nods, going along with his act as she says, "Of course Moose. There is no other place I would rather be than with you, hanging out, bonding, dancing."

"Camille," Moose pauses, his smile dropping as a sudden seriousness comes over him. They emerge from the Vault and stand there in the alleyway, staring at each other as Camille waits for Moose to continue. "That is exactly how I've been feeling lately. All I want is to be with you whether it's talking or just sitting there watching a movie and to be honest, I'm not sure if it's because we're best friends or if there's something else."

Camille listens to him with her full attention, her eyes wide with emotions Moose can't quite make out. She looks down at the ground with a small blush before answering quietly, "We have all summer to figure out your feelings Moose. I'm willing to give it a shot if you are."

Moose doesn't say anything, his lips pressed together tightly in thought. He turns on his right foot and heads towards the main street, his hand catching Camille's in mid swing. She doesn't pull away and smile, stepping closer so their shoulders bump lightly. It feels nice holding her hand in his and Moose rubs the pad of his thumb over against the smooth skin of her hand.

With a small tingle in his stomach, Moose thinks about how he could get used to this. His fingers tighten around Camille's and she squeezes back.

...

"Well, this is it," Camille says as they stop in front of _Hearth_. She is reluctant to let go of Moose's hand. It feels like her lifeline, anchoring her to reality and yet it feels like a dream because this is finally happening. Here is her chance and she's reaching out for it with open arms.

After a moment, Camille detangles her hand from his, their index fingers hooked for a second before she lets her hand drop. Her palm feels cold and lonely now without Moose's pressed against it.

"I wish we had more time," Moose admits sheepishly before his eyes brighten. "Would you mind if I came by after you finished work and we just walked through the city? Or maybe we could go back to the Vault and par-tay!" Moose hoots loudly with raised hands and a little shake of his hips.

Camille can't help, but giggle at his actions. She shrugs and stares down at her fingers as she plays with them. "It's up to you Moose, you suggested it after all. I'm down for anything."

Stroking his chin, Moose stares at the _Hearth_ sign in thought before he blinks back into focus and says, "I say we do a little of both." He pretends to sing into a microphone. "As Hannah Montana would say, 'It's the best of both worlds!' Take it away Cam!"

Camille pretends to catch the microphone he tosses to her and points to Moose as she croons, "Moose, I would love to spend the night with you—" Her face reddens as she slaps a hand over her mouth. Moose stares at her wide eyed, his lips parted in shock. "That's not what I meant! I worded that awfully. What I meant is it's a date!"

Moose smirks at her and steps closer as he huskily murmurs, "Well, if you want to spend the night with me we can do that too. I don't mind getting down and dirty with you as the sun comes up."

"Moose!" Camille slaps Moose's shoulder and bites the skin on her thumb, trying to calm her red cheeks down.

Chuckling, Moose steps back. "I'm just kidding Chameleon. I know what you meant." He winks at her with a devilish grin. There is an edge in his eyes, though, like there is something else running through his mind, something trying to break the surface and welcome her into this whole other world filled with excitement and sensuality.

Stepping back, Camille reaches for the door to the restaurant. "Well, I think it's time I make my appearance. They might begin to wonder where I am and start looking for another waitress."

Moose waves a hand at her as he jokes, "Nah, you're too good of a waitress. Most likely they'll send out a search party for you and bring out the dogs if they don't find you after a day."

"I highly doubt that. The only one who would do that is Finn," Camille tells him as she steps through the door. "Okay, now I really have to go or I'll really be late."

She waves to him and closes the door behind her, missing Moose's confused look as he asks, "Wait, who's Finn?"

Camille heads to the back to the small employee room where there are lockers for each employee. After she has punched in, she ties the apron around her waist and heads back into the dining room to look for Finn. She finds him sitting at a table, folding napkins like she had seem him do on the first day, and grabs a stack of plates to start setting the tables. They had decided on the routine on her second day of work. He would fold the napkins while she put the plates on the tables. After that he would place the napkins and the tableware on the table while she got the cups cart and placed the cups on the table. It had been Camille's idea and had allowed them a couple of extra minutes to sit and relax before the doors opened.

"There you are!" Finn exclaims as he glances up at her before going back to his napkin folding. "For a moment I thought you'd been kidnapped and was about to call 911."

"Good thing you didn't since I wasn't kidnapped," Camille jokes as she comes over and grabs another stack of plates. "The Police wouldn't be happy if they showed up and here I was, safe and sound."

"Nah, it would give them something to do instead of sitting there eating donuts and drinking coffee." Finn pats his stomach and drops the napkin on the table, his hands behind his head as he reclines back in his chair. "What I would give to have a job like that. Well, I don't like coffee, but I love donuts, especially the ones with jelly in the middle. What's you're favorite type of donut?"

Camille shakes her head and places her hands on her hips. "You know that stereotype isn't true, right? They don't sit around all day eating donuts. And my favorite donut is a tie between the one with strawberry frosting and sprinkles on top and the plain glazed one."

"_Two_ favorite donuts? Geez, your boyfriend must be broke if you have two favorites of everything," Finn muses as he finishes the last napkin and stands, gathering a few in his hands and heading to the nearest table.

With a shy smile, Camille lowers her head as though she is concentrating on placing the plates perfectly as she admits, "I don't have two favorites of everything and I don't have a boyfriend."

"Really?" Finn stares at her intently, his eyebrows furrowed as though he can't make sense of what he is hearing, like it's a foreign language to him.

"Yes, really. I'm not picky, I just have a hard time making up my mine on donuts…and some other foods." Camille looks up at him, but he hasn't moved and is still staring at her. It starts to creep her out and she wants to reach up and make sure nothing is stuck in her teeth. "What?"

Finn shakes his head and turns his back to her. "Nothing, I just thought for sure you would have a boyfriend."

Camille shrugs as a blush comes to her face. She knows she can't classify Moose as a boyfriend yet, but a part of her wants to comment on how she might have a potential boyfriend. She stops herself before the words come out because she isn't the type to brag and a deep down she knows the word 'boyfriend' will never describe Moose the way she sees him. He's so much more than that, both as a person and as her best friend.

"So you're free territory?"

"Excuse me?" Camille blurts out with a frown, shocked and slightly offended at his words. She turns to look at him, plates completely forgotten.

Finn raises both of his hands in defense as he says, "That was awful wording. I'm sorry. What I meant is if I asked you out, there wouldn't be a pissed off guy knocking on my door with a razor blade hidden in his mouth?"

"You're right, that was terrible wording," Camille agrees with him. She finishes the plates and heads for the kitchen to grab the cups cart, calling over her shoulder to Finn, "And I don't know. There might be, but there won't be razor blades in his mouth."

…

Well, here's another chapter! I don't have much to say other than I got a new laptop so hopefully I'll be inspired to write on the new, shiny, AWESOME laptop with pretty, lit up keys.

Enjoy and until next time!


	5. Friends With Benefits

Gravity Happens…

…

…Friends With Benefits?

Moose was five minutes early. He was never early. Camille could only remember one other time when he had been early and it had only been because she had told him the wrong time on purpose so he would arrive on time.

As she cleaned the tables, piling the dirty plates on a cart alongside the cups, Camille could see him outside the front window, rocking on the balls of his feet. He never stopped moving, she mused silently. In his left hand was a paper bag and she excitedly wondered what was in it and if it was for her. The idea of him caring enough to get her something made her stomach flutter.

Finishing quickly, Camille headed into the employee break room. She slid around some of the chefs and and hurriedly put her things in her locker, grabbing her satchel and sliding the strap over her head.

On her way out of the break room she nearly ran into Finn.

"In a rush?" he joked as he stood in her way. She wanted to step around him and be on her way, but she wasn't rude and decided to stick out the conversation.

"Sort of," she admitted with a small smile. Maybe he would get the hint and cut the conversation short.

"Girl's night out?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, a smirk drawing his lips crooked.

"Not exactly," she said as she pulled out her phone and pretended to be checking a message. "I've really got to go now or I'll be late."

"Okay, see you later." He put a hand on the break room door, effectively giving Camille the signal that the conversation was over, but at the last moment he turned and called out to her.

She plastered a smile on her face and turned. "Yes?"

"I was supposed to go to this concert with my friend, but something came up and now I have this extra ticket. I was wondering if you wanted it?" he asked hopefully, talking with his hands.

Camille bit her lip, unsure of how to reply. Was this his way of asking her out? Because she already had interests in other guys, specifically the one waiting outside for her right now.

"I don't know," she said uncertainly, taking a step backward with slight impatience. "I would see about it, but I'm pretty busy so you should probably ask someone else."

Finn shrugged, oblivious to her rejection. "I don't need an answer right now." And then he was through the swinging door and gone.

Camille sighed, shaking her head. Her phone buzzed in her hand, making her jump. She glanced down and smiled as the ridiculous picture of Moose, a picture he had insisted be deleted, came onto her screen. She pressed ignore and hurried to the front of the restaurant, finding Moose peering into the front window with worry written all over his face.

"There you are! For a second I thought you had forgotten and had left early or something," he told her as she opened the door. "And then I would have had to eat these by myself. I have a physique to keep up, you know."

Camille rolled her eyes and looked at the bag in his hand. "What is it?"

"Only your favorite thing ever," he exclaimed as he opened the bag and let her peer inside, "donuts!"

"I've been craving a donut all night Moose. You're the best," she admitted happily as she inhaled deeply, her stomach growling when she smelled the frosting. "Which one's mine?"

Moose's face heated up. "Well, I wasn't sure which one you wanted since you like both the strawberry with sprinkles and glazed ones so I got you both. I'll take the one you don't want."

Something in Camille melted. She wanted to kiss him so badly at that moment for being so sweet and thoughtful. Smiling, she kissed him on the cheek. "I know I already mentioned it, but you're the best."

Moose grinned goofily and wrapped his arm around her in a half hug. "I would never forget your favorite kind of donut Chameleon."

"What's my favorite ice cream flavor?" she questioned randomly, staring at him slyly.

Moose rolled his eyes, speaking without hesitation. "You hate ice cream. The only time you'll eat ice cream is when it's in a root beer float. Did I pass with flying colors?"

Camille giggled and reached into the bag, pulling out the donut with the strawberry frosting. "Of course." She switched the donut to her other hand so she could lick the frosting off her fingers. "This is so good."

Moose pulled out his own donut and took a huge bite of it. "I've been waiting to eat this for three blocks."

"Your stomach is always on your mind," Camille teased him, grinning when he moaned happily after another bite. "Can I have a bite of yours before you devour it?"

Moose held the donut to his chest, his eyes wide in horror. "Of course not! Haven't you ever heard of cooties?"

With a scoff Camille held out her own donut, offering up a bite of her own. He stared at her donut for a moment before holding out his own. Camille took his donut and took a bite, only realizing after she had put her mouth where his had just been on the donut. Trying to control her blush, she watched as Moose bit into her donut, his teeth sinking into heartily.

"You have frosting on your lip," Camille told him, motioning with her hand to where it was. She snickered when he missed, the pink still smeared across his upper lip. He handed her donut back to her, his tongue searching his upper lip for the frosting as his eyes followed her finger as she guided him on her own lip.

"There, you got it."

Moose stepped closer and his mouth covered hers, drawing the breath out of her as her stomach tightened in surprise and delicious warmth. His lips slanted over hers hungrily as his teeth chewed at her lower lip.

She could feel his curls against her forehead, could taste the strawberry frosting on his lips, could feel his warmth from being so close. It fueled her until she was pressed up against him, her donut forgotten in her left hand as her right hand clutched at his hoodie.

He exhaled through his nose, his breath washing over her face, and she swore she could feel the warm breath on her neck, on her stomach, between her legs.

Startled at the thought, Camille unthinkingly bit on his lip. He groaned, pulling her tighter against him with one hand. His hips touched hers lightly, but he didn't go any farther. They were on a public street after all.

"Do I need a bucket of cold water?"

Camille pulled away from Moose, her heart jolting in her chest in surprise. She looked away from Moose's face and straight into Finn's frowning one. Unwillingly her face heated up, but she hoped he couldn't see it in the dim light from the restaurant's front window.

"No," she said, thankful when her voice didn't crack embarrassingly.

Finn shrugged and stepped onto the sidewalk, standing in front of them.

"Umm, Moose, this is Finn. Finn, this is Moose," Camille introduced them, twisting her hands nervously. She wasn't sure what to do now.

Moose held out his hand and Finn stared at it for a moment before shaking it.

"Nice to meet you, man," Moose said with a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Finn nodded as he replied, "You too." He glanced down at his wristwatch. "Well, I'll leave you two to your own _activities_. Good night."

Camille nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Finn grinned at her as though he was thinking of some inside joke they had shared. Camille thought back and couldn't think of any jokes and was puzzled as to why he was so amused.

He turned and headed down the street. Suddenly he stopped and turned, walking backwards as he called out to her, "Don't forgot to think about that concert!"

Camille glared at him as he turned back around and turned the corner.

"What concert?" Moose asked in confusion, his eyebrows drawing so close together they were almost one brown line.

"He asked me to go to a concert with him and I told him to ask someone else," Camille admitted softly as they headed down the street, the opposite way Finn had gone. She wanted to hold his hand, but the mood had gone sour the moment Finn had appeared. Instead, she finished her donut and dusted off the crumbs lightly with her fingers.

"Sounds like the kind of guy who can't take no for an answer," Moose mused in a low voice as he watched her. "Promise me you won't be alone with him."

Camille shivered and walked closer to Moose. He seemed to sense her unease and wrapped his fingers around hers, holding her hand reassuringly.

"Don't worry. I don't want to be alone with him and I plan to never find out."

Moose nodded. "Good. If you ever hang out with him, which I hope never happens, but that's because I'm your greedy, overprotective, selfish best friend, I'll be your plus one."

Camille rolled her eyes. "You're not greedy. Overprotective and selfish, maybe, but not greedy."

With a hand over his heart, Moose gave her a fake hurt look. "I'm most certainly not selfish, am I?"

Shrugging, Camille pulled away and stepped up on the small rock ledge lining the sidewalk. She stared down at him. "I suppose not. You did buy me a donut after all."

"Don't forget I almost ate it before I got to _Hearth_. That counts for something, right?"

"I would say yes, but your ego is already big enough as it is," Camille said with a laugh, squealing when he came up to her and hoisted her over his shoulder. His forearm held the back of her thighs securely as he spun them around.

"Moose!" Camille cried out, her hands clutching at the hoodie over his lower back. He stopped and she pounded on his back softly. "Put me down you mongrel. What are you, a caveman?"

"Yes. Food, fire," he adjusted her on his shoulder, making her squeak, "woman." His voice was deep and she could feel it in her side and leg, his voice scraping against her skin and setting off goose bumps.

Abruptly, he put her down gently. There was this amused grin on his face and they continued their walk down the street towards the Vault.

Moose said out of nowhere, "Almost forgot to tell you, Luke scheduled practice for tomorrow night."

Camille winced and bit her lip unhappily. "I have work tomorrow night. What about during the day?"

For a moment Moose was silent and Camille worried she had angered him somehow. Moose rarely ever got angry. She glanced at him to try and gauge his facial expression.

Moose's eyebrows were lowered, his eyes trained on the ground in thought. Then, shrugging, he met her eyes with a smile, "Don't worry 'bout it. I'll catch you up after. Plus, it'll give us some alone time."

He wiggled his eyebrows and Camille broke out in laughter. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "Alone time in the Vault? That's funny."

With a mumble of fake hurt, he elbowed her back. "And here I was all excited, but you just had to pop my bubble."

"Sorry Moose, but what kind of friend would I be if I lied to you?"

"You would be a great friend and my ego wouldn't always be so bruised," he told her sarcastically with one raised eyebrow. The corner of his lips tilted up in a smirk and Camille couldn't decide if she wanted to wipe it off with a nasty comeback or kiss it off.

"Dollar for your thoughts?" he asked as his eyes roamed her face.

"Moose, what're we doing?" Camille said in a rush as she stopped in her tracks, her shoulders slumped.

"What do you mean? We're heading to the Vault to—"

"I mean…" she swallowed thickly and squared her shoulders, her eyes meeting his bravely. "Within the past week we've kissed twice and not in a friendly, peck of the lips way. To be honest, it was more of an 'I'm going to eat off your face and possibly more if I don't stop' kind of kiss."

Moose's shoulders shook as he turned his face away, trying to hold in his laughter. "I certainly was _not_ going to eat off your face Cam. Possibly more? Maybe. But not eat off your face."

Red bloomed on Camille's face at his honesty. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She tried to push down the heat in her cheeks and his blunt words and responded, "It doesn't matter what you were going to do. We're best friends and there's an obvious attraction between us, but what do we do about it?"

Moose had this crazy grin on his face and when he didn't say anything Camille dreadfully asked, "What?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, but the look on his face was anything but. There was an excited gleam in his eyes like it was Christmas and he was getting the present he'd been waiting all year for. "I was going to say friends with benefits, but I don't want to get murdered by you."

Camille glared at him and he raised his hands in defense. "I would never suggest that, ever. You deserve better than that."

"Don't change the subject Robert Alexander."

Moose glared at her and she responded with her own glare. They stared at each other for a while until Moose blinked and shoved his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. He kicked the ground with his shoe, the pair he had proudly earned at the last World Jam.

"I want to take things slow," he admitted in a low voice, his head bent towards hers. "You're my best friend and I don't want to ruin that because we're attracted to each other or lusting after each other or whatever you want to call it."

Camille stared at him. "Your kiss didn't feel like you wanted to take things slow."

Moose sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and grinned up at her, his eyes framed by his dark lashes. "Sometimes I can't help myself. I just wanted to kiss you so _badly_ that I did it without thinking."

She stared down at her fingers, playing with her nails as her lips tilted upwards. Pressing her lips together to hold in the smile, she let her hands drop. "I understand how you feel. Sometimes I just want to yank on those curls of yours and pull you forward." Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "That wasn't supposed to come out."

"I'm glad it did," Moose said huskily, his eyes a dark brown as he stared at her lips.

Camille turned away from him and tugged on his sleeve, pulling him down the street. "Taking it slow, remember?"

Moose grumbled under his breath, "I'm already regretting my words."

Camille rolled her eyes and turned to him, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. She pulled away, trying to ignore the delicious smell that was Moose, and smiled at him. "You were being honest, don't regret that."

"You're right," Moose agreed. "What would I do without you?"

"I'm not sure, probably end up in jail," Camille mused with a giggle, "or maybe in a circus as a clown."

Moose glared at her. "Don't even joke about that. You know I hate clowns."

"But it would be perfect! Your hair's already curly so you would only have to dye it red."

"It'll never happen, ever." He grabbed her hand and started to run down the street, pointing towards the sky and proclaiming loudly, "To the Vault. Hurry Chameleon or I'll throw you over my shoulder again."

Clutching his hand tighter, Camille picked up the pace at his threat. As much as she loved him carrying her, something he had done many times, she preferred being in his arms and not on his shoulder. She felt more like a Princess then, which meant he was her Prince Charming, right?

...

Someone asked if I could give them a schedule of when I update and unfortunately I don't have one. I'm really sorry and I wish I had an update schedule because that would make my life so much easier, but...I'm not that organized or focused.

So this is a juicy chapter, eh? I hope the title of the chapter fooled you well because that was my intent. I know you were all hoping for something more like hmmm SEX. But not yet. Maybe later. :)


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